


Every Thread of Gold

by painted_lady12



Series: Precious Medals [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Competition, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Dysfunctional Family, Episode 5, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Self-Esteem Issues, Shameless Smut, Social Media, Travel, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-03-30 22:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13961610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painted_lady12/pseuds/painted_lady12
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor finally get to competition season in one piece, but if they thought that getting through the months of grueling practices put a strain on their mental health, then competing will be a whole different monster.   Their relationship and their hearts are put to the test, but they'd do anything to reach that gold medal they'd been working so hard to get towards.Sequel to "Silver Devils Play".  Updates will be weekly on MondaysNOTE 6/26/2018- this fic will be on hiatus until further noticeNOTE 9/6/2018- this fic is back in business for the one year anniversary of its parent fic.  THE UPDATES WILL BE SLOW just a heads up





	1. Gold-Plated Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my lovelies. It's been a while, hasn't it?
> 
> I posted on tumblr about my writer's block, but I felt it necessary to apologize as I promised this first chapter a few weeks ago. I was having a very difficult time with writing, and that combined with some health issues recently have severely deterred my progress. I wanted to put this first chapter up, and the next one will go up on April 2nd, and each subsequent Monday night (EST) after that.
> 
> This fic is going to be very different than SDP in a lot of ways. Whereas they were dealing with more internal problems in "silver", this fic will feature more how their relationships and mental health issues respond to external stresses, like competing and media coverage. 
> 
> NOTE: if you haven't read the first installment, you will become very confused in future chapters, so please go back and read it when you have the time :D
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING:*** discussions of anxiety, depression, panic attacks, and disordered eating. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Find a good place to go on a hike through nature with that loved one. Take a minute to marvel at what a beautiful world we live in, because sometimes we miss it when we get locked in our own heads.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

**Chapter One- Gold-Plated Smiles**

 

There was supposed to be this huge sense of relief.  There was supposed to be a party, cake, lights. There was supposed to be this realization of great truth, perhaps a parade.

 

Or maybe Viktor had just had an over inflated sense of the world, but the fact that when he sat down in front of all the Katsuki’s and said, very slowly, “I have depression.  Thank you all so much for supporting me.”

 

They all smiled and hugged him, but eventually they were all back to their normal routines, and Yuuri was laying like a starfish on the floor next to Viktor.  Viktor watched the fan spin, and said to the air, “that was… underwhelming.”

 

“Well, I mean, it wasn’t exactly news.”

 

Maybe the laser lights show was too much to expect.  Maybe Viktor had thought it was a bigger deal than...

 

Mari nudged Viktor with her polished big toe, looking at him with a small smile on her face.  “Good job, dude.”

 

He tried to control himself, but couldn’t help the way he beamed up at her.

  
  


***

  
  


_ Dear Dumb Feelings Log, _

 

_ I’m due to write another letter. _

 

_ I don’t want to, though.  Writing it all down makes all these deep dark things that have been hiding in my head real.  Then… what if it’s truly as horrible as I’ve always thought? _

 

_ What… if it’s... not? _

 

_ … _

 

_ To My Mother: _

 

Viktor paused, sticking the pencil between his teeth and furrowing his brow.

 

_ Ana Nikiforov: _

 

The eraser shavings blew out before Viktor like snow as he readied a third time.

 

_ Mama, _

 

_ There are so many things that I want to say to you. _

 

_ First of all, I’m so, so sorry.  I don’t know what I could have done, but… I haven’t really seen you much since that night.  I don’t know if you hate me or love me. I don’t even know if you’re alive. _

 

_ I wish I could go back and fix it.  I wish I can take all the hurt away… _

 

The page suddenly tore at the corner, and Viktor found himself tearing out the section and throwing it, unquellable rage forming in his chest.

 

He didn’t have time for this, anyway.  In a few hours he would be departing for competition.  

 

The lazy fall wind brushed some of Viktor’s silver hair across his forehead and into his eyes, making him huff impatiently.  He felt like shit. He’d just been discharged from the hospital, and all he wanted to do was cuddle with Yuuri. In fact, leaving the hospital in and of itself was terrifying.  They were throwing him out on unsteady legs and asking him to walk the tightrope that was normal life again.

 

Yuuri had gone ahead with Yuuko, Minako, and Nishigori, but Viktor had stayed back at the hotel for a while longer, trying to get out all his emotions before having to be Yuuri’s rock today.

 

Apparently fate had other plans.

 

Looking up at the passerby clouds, Viktor closed his eyes, the shadow of the sun still imprinted on his lids as he wondered out loud, “Why is this so hard?”

 

Nobody answered him.

 

A toddler fell over and started sobbing a short distance away, a scrape on their knee tracking blood down their leg.

 

When Viktor scrambled up to help the mother, she shook her head, watching her daughter’s big brown eyes mist and spill over.  She sniffled, her chubby cheeks turning bright red in the midday sun, but while the mother and Viktor watched, she stumbled up, a determined look in her eyes.

 

The mother cooed and gasped in excitement, lifting her up onto the bench that Viktor had previously been occupying.  Viktor took a step back, feeling like he was intruding on something he had no right to.

 

The girl caught his eyes, looking at him curiously.  He tucked his journal under his arm and starting heading back for the room to get ready.

  
  


***

  
  


Public practice went about as well as they could have expected.  

 

Minako had been on the sidelines of countless competitions.  She had clutched banner after banner, white-knuckled through sterling performances that set her on edge, and held the steadily growing hand of her pupil even after her fingers had ballooned purple.

 

With how much work they’d put into this season, she expected there to be a new vigor behind his chocolate eyes, but instead Yuuri was stumbling on just as many jumps, with that same dead-eye panic that had brought him through so many losses before.

 

“He’s nervous,” she whispered breathily, watching Yuuri continue around the rink.  Viktor was watching Yuuri pointedly, mouth set into a thin line.

 

When Yuuri skated over to Viktor, she saw Viktor smile falsely and say a few encouraging things.  Viktor went to reach for Yuuri’s hand, but Yuuri snatched it away, pushing in his earbuds and walking ahead of his coach.

 

It was just a blink, but Viktor’s face fell in hurt before quickly being made back up to look like nothing had changed at all.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri felt like his hand was burning.  He’d pulled it away, not wanting to be touched when his anxiety was running so high, and Viktor had insisted that he was fine, but now he wasn’t making eye contact, and Yuuri was sure he’d done something incredibly wrong.

 

“Viktor, I…”

 

“...Mr. Katsuki, how are you feeling today?...”

 

“...consider Minami a competitor…”

 

“...coach, Viktor Nikiforov…”

 

Viktor froze and turned around, smiling brightly at the reporters.  They all had to catch themselves, over encumbered with equipment. They started setting up quickly, always prepared to get the scoop.

 

Nonchalantly, Viktor brushed his hair back and smiled, confidence exhuming from every pore.  Yuuri wasn’t sure how he managed it, but Viktor seemed to look his healthiest that he had in weeks.

 

Yuuri could barely hear what he was saying over the rushing in his own ears, but the phrase “personal best” was included, and something about “taking it easy”

 

His heart was racing very quickly, anger bubbling and boiling from the pit of his stomach.  He couldn’t even hear the reporters, his sight blurring out. Something was caught in his throat, or maybe he was just biting back all the fear that had been plaguing him all day.

 

Viktor’s face was smooth and indecipherable, and as Yuuri rounded on him and reminded him just how dire the situation was, he couldn’t quite place it, but the man he loved wasn’t the one looking back at him.  He might as well have been staring at a stranger, and explaining all of this to a passerby.

 

There wasn’t the understanding, compassionate, and steadfast Viktor Yuuri had come to know over the last few months.  The Viktor standing in front of him was freshly polished with indifference and enthusiasm, scrubbing away all of his little idiosyncrasies to give them Viktor Nikiforov, legendary skater and coach.

 

The man who whispered Russian into his ear until he fell asleep, who pressed cool toes against Yuuri’s thighs at three in the morning to warm up, who gets lost in the melody of more jazz, swing, and opera songs than anyone else Yuuri knew, must have been left somewhere between home and here.

 

After the interview, Yuuri took some space outside, trying to steady his breathing.  He’d been on the verge of a panic attack with the interview, and he knew that he was being irrational about Viktor.  They had agreed to be professional while at the competition, and Viktor was just keeping up his normal level of flair.

 

Yuuri focused on his breath.  He breathed positive thoughts in, and negative thoughts out, like Dr. Yamada had been teaching him.  

 

_ In one, two, I’ll do fine... out one, two, Viktor is scaring me… in one, two… _

 

Eventually he meandered back into the rink.  Wherever he walked people whispered excitedly as he passed, and he could just imagine what they were saying.

 

“ _ This is the one that bombed at Nationals last year.” _

 

_ “He obviously can’t handle the pressure.” _

 

_ “I don’t even know why he’s still trying to pretend that he deserves to be here.” _

 

_ “His skating is atrocious at best.” _

 

The words swirled around in his head as he sought out Viktor again, trying to reassure himself that he was alright, that everything was going to be alright, that it wasn’t crashing around him spectacularly.

 

Flashes of his routine from last year kept cropping up in his head while attempting to practice, making his throat tighten, remembering what it had felt like to sink that low.

 

Wait… why would Yuuri put himself through that again?  He’s setting himself up for failure. That feeling, of losing everything and being at the bottom, of feeling like you’re drowning on dry land, of hating every fiber of your being so thoroughly that you wish you could just… disappear.

 

Why would he put himself through that again?

 

When Viktor cheered from him from the sidelines, he tried to push those intrusive thoughts from his mind, but they only managed to snake their way into a tighter grip.

 

They had a vice-like hold, and the pressure was eventually going to pop.

  
  


***

  
  


Viktor went back to the hotel to get ready and Yuuri changed in the locker rooms, not wanting to leave the rink for so long just before competition.  Knowing his luck, there would be an accident between the hotel and here, or he might forget his ID to let him back in.

 

No, it was better to stay at the rink.  Fewer loose ends that way.

 

His music was blasting in his ears, drowning out all of his insecurities.  

 

Viktor wasn’t back yet.

 

When Yuuri finally did track Viktor down, parading around in a devilishly handsome suit, Yuuri felt himself get aggravated again.

 

_ I can’t believe he made me panic about him getting back just so he can strut around in a suit.  It isn’t fair how hot he looks in that, anyway. _

 

As Viktor readied Yuuri to go out into warm-ups, the whole crowd was cresting into the stands, more people coming in by the second.  Competitors and coaches were flurrying and flocking around them, but Viktor looked extremely excited and confident.

 

Suddenly, Yuuri realized that Viktor had been saying a motivating speech, and he’d completely missed it.  His ears turned red as he handed his skate guards to his coach, hearing the tail end of “...I truly believe that you…”

 

Mortified, Yuuri had already stepped onto the ice.

 

This ice was different.  It wasn’t Ice Castle, which felt like coming home every time.  This ice had unfamiliar grooves, shorter ceilings, and voices of so many strangers echoing around them in a sharp cacophony.  

 

However, ice was ice.

 

He remembered the first time he was skating at Detroit after he started training under Ciao Ciao, about how things that he’d always considered second nature were suddenly foreign.  He had to relearn how to be a skater, and it was difficult, but he’d come out better for it. This time would be no different. He had to be ready for the Grand Prix. He just had to.

 

He was going first.  All of the echoing voices started getting farther and farther away as he realized that once everyone else left the ice, it would just be him out there, and he would have to begin.  He would have to prove to Viktor that he could do this. Or, rather, he would have to prove to himself that he could do this.

 

When Yuuri skated up to Viktor, the older man was pensive.  For the first time almost all day, he wasn’t wearing his usual mask of enthusiasm and optimism, and Yuuri was starting to get whiplash from the mood swings.

 

“Yuuri, I want you to turn around.”

 

Did he hear that right?

 

“I said turn around!”

 

Confused, Yuuri did as he was told, and suddenly he felt warm, familiar arms wrap around him.

 

Yuuri almost sank through the floor in shock.  They had said no outward showing of affection. They had promised to remain professional, to keep things casual in the public.  Yet here was Viktor, clutching Yuuri to his chest, his breath tickling Yuuri’s ear wetly.

 

So many people were watching.  Cameras were clicking at a rapid fire rate, and Yuuri was suddenly terrified of the headlines, terrified of the repercussions that this would have on the rest of the competition...

 

“Seduce me with everything you have.  If your performance can enthrall me, then you can bring the whole audience to its knees.  That’s what I say in practice, right?”

 

Suddenly all the people melted away, and it was just Viktor and him here.  They were back in Ice Castle, running through  _ On Love: Eros _ again, Viktor making minor adjustments and Yuuri performing for Viktor alone, performing with the intention to make his knees quake and hands twitch with want.

 

The audience was suddenly all just… background.  Yuuri finally felt Viktor, his Viktor, and with a blush he remembered that his Viktor had been here the whole time, he’d just been to nervous to see him.  He could feel him all around, now. 

 

A wash of confidence started rushing through Yuuri, and his fingers ran through his gelled hair, and Yuuri found himself getting annoyed. 

 

Viktor should have helped him gel his hair.  Viktor should have helped zip up his costume, and soothed his fears, and talked him through the rough patches today.  Instead, Yuuri went through it alone.

 

It wasn’t even Viktor’s fault, though.  Yuuri very successfully isolated himself.

 

It wasn’t fair.  Which is why Yuuri had to make sure that this wasn’t the last time that they would be at a competition together.  Yuuri would make sure that they would have more chances to get this right.

 

As he skated to the center of the rink, he remembered all the many hours that him and Viktor had poured into this program.  The blood, sweat and tears that coach and student had willingly sacrificed for some hope at glory.

 

He wanted to skate like he did in practice, for Viktor alone, and as he made eye contact with his coach from across the ice, and his determined expression pierced through all of Yuuri’s doubts, he knew.

 

_ It’s different, this time. _

 

Every step, every jump felt like it was unwinding from his muscles, already prepared to go.  Every time he looked over at Viktor, his smoldering look reminded him that he was the sexiest pork cutlet bowl out there.

  
  


***

  
  


A panic attack isn’t always a huge affair.  For some people it’s breathless gasps and heaving sobs.  For others it’s falling over and shaking, their heart beating out of their chest.

 

Yuuri and his panic attacks were pretty familiar with each other, at this point.  He’d experienced every kind of panic attack that his anxiety had to offer. The gasping ones, the heart racing ones, the quiet, distant ones.

 

This one, however, was molten like lava, and simmered just below the surface.  His fingernails dug into his palms as he paced the hotel room, bright anger lighting him up from the inside.

 

Viktor and him were supposed to get together with Minako for dinner, but Yuuri knew that if he got anywhere near Viktor right now he’d burst, and there was no telling who would get caught in the crossfire.

 

Yuuri did well, today, and Viktor had made comments about how he could do better.  All his efforts felt futile in the face of his coach’s disappointing feedback.

 

Worse, Viktor wanted him to decrease his jump difficulty, implying that he felt that tomorrow was already a lost cause.

 

It made Yuuri furious.  

 

_ M: You coming?  Viktor and I are at the restaurant. _

 

Yuuri’s hands shook as he responded.

 

_ Y: I’m not hungry _

 

Yuuri knew that skipping a meal before a big competition was a bad habit, but it was one that tended to find him.  Nervous nausea tended to make eating seem incredibly difficult, and even though he was in good shape, somehow he always managed to find the extra fat clinging to him, especially with his skating costumes on.

 

Then there was the other problem, his competitor Kenjirou Minami.  The winner of last year’s nationals, who was younger, more in shape, and definitely more confident than Yuuri.  Maybe Viktor saw the competition and realized that Yuuri wasn’t up to it. Maybe Minami challenging him had spilled a sourness into Yuuri’s gut, and Yuuri found himself running for the toilet, gagging and gasping, but he hadn’t eaten much all day.  There was nothing to come out. 

 

He felt hot and cold at once.  He slammed his fist into the tile, trying to calm his stuttering breath as he dry heaved again.  

 

If Minami won, that would be it.  Yuuri wouldn’t be sure that he could even make it to the Grand Prix.

 

What made him think he deserved it, anyway?  Just because Viktor saw something in him didn’t make him special.  Just because Viktor… 

 

...Viktor…

 

The one who dragged Yuuri out of retirement, kicking and screaming.  The one that made him feel like he could win, the one that was unimpressed by his performance, at best.

 

The anger started bubbling over again, and he felt a resolute chill shake through him.

 

He would win tomorrow, Viktor be damned.

 

Yuuri put his head between his knees in the bathroom, as angry tears started to crowd his eyes, and the world disappeared into crystalline droplets behind his glasses.

 

They won’t even see him coming.

  
  


***

  
  


“He’s not coming,” Minako said, biting her lip.  “He might be avoiding eating. He usually does that around competition because of nerves, and it almost always bites him in the ass because then he’ll binge eat and make himself sick.”

 

Eye widening, Viktor moved to stand up, but Minako put her hand on his arm.

 

Obviously Viktor had to go to Yuuri, to comfort him, to encourage him to eat and kiss away his fears...

 

“You’re going to learn that when it comes to competitions, Yuuri is a very different person.”

 

Sighing, Viktor sank back into his seat, playing with the noodles they had been served.  “He’s had a wall up all day, and I can’t seem to breach it.” 

 

“When his anxiety is high like this, normally it does Yuuri good to break down and let his feelings out, but during competition he doesn’t have that luxury.  He has to keep this up in order to ensure that he can continue to compete. Yuuri has always been a nervous guy, but he’s stubborn when it comes to this. You have to give him his space.”

 

Biting his chapped lip, Viktor took a sip from his drink, watching the sweat on the glass track lazily down.

 

“I hate this.  It feels like when I first came to Hasetsu all over again.  He’s so guarded. I don’t need him to break down, I just need to see my Yuuri in there somewhere.  As his coach I think this is the only option for him, but as his boyfriend…” Viktor swirled his finger around the top of the glass, “It’s extremely difficult.”

 

The two of them sat in quiet for a few minutes continuing their eating, before Minako ventured a, “so, about today…”

 

Sharp baby blues snapped up to meet her determined stare.

 

“Yuuri always comes off the ice critiquing everything he does.  All the mistakes are suddenly extremely important, and they overshadow all of the things he did well.  When he first comes off the ice you need to give him encouragement and positive feedback.”   
  


Furrowing his brow, Viktor muttered, “Yuuri isn’t delicate.  He can take the criticism.”

 

Brushing back her hair, Minako sighed.  “Listen, maybe during practice when it’s just the two of you Yuuri can take the hit, but during competition he’s already got so many dark thoughts swirling around.  He doesn’t need more, he needs someone to show him what he did well.”

 

“I never got complimented coming off the ice,” Viktor defended, exasperated.

 

Minako’s eyes narrowed.  “Change starts with you. If you think that Yakov didn’t do that correctly, then you have to be the one to fix it.  Continuing the same vicious cycle doesn’t do anyone any good, it just makes for more of the same.”

 

Wincing, Viktor took a few more bites of noodles, remembering Yuuri’s mortified face after his comments.

 

_ Change starts with you. _

 

Yakov was always commenting on sloppy footwork and other mistakes when Viktor came off the ice, but it was usually because Viktor was so confident that he needed to get knocked down a peg.  Maybe, Viktor needs to learn how to coach in his own way during competitions.

 

Unlearning a vicious cycle was going to be hard, but for Yuuri he’d do nearly anything.

 

Minako ordered noodles to go, and looked up at Viktor as they departed.  “I’m going to bring these to Yuuri, and hopefully he can eat some of it. You need to figure out what your game plan is tomorrow, coach.”

 

She sashayed away, long straight hair billowing out behind her like a cape.

 

_ Change starts with you. _

 

Viktor began walking around outside, suit jacket folded neatly over his left arm.  His hands were in his pockets, and he found himself pulling out his stupid feelings log.

 

He took one look at it and sank down onto a ledge edging the sidewalk.

 

_ Dear stupid feelings log, _

 

_ I’m having a lot of trouble figuring out what I want to say in this letter.  I guess I’ll just keep trying until… _

 

Vibrating in his pocket cut him off, and he looked down and saw that it was Yakov.  Defeated, he answered, mutter, “ _ What is it?” _

 

_ “I was wondering how your first competition was going as coach,”  _ Yakov said gruffly, and Viktor was surprised that Yakov had remembered that he even had a competition today.

 

Scoffing, Viktor tucked the feelings log away, muttering, “ _ Don’t worry, Yakov, I’m a royal screw-up just like you predicted.” _

 

It was quiet on the other line.  There was a street vendor down the walkway chattering happily with some customers who were clearly there for the competition and lost.

 

“ _ I… I have something that I need to say to you, and I don’t know if now is the best time to tell you.” _

 

Annoyance flared up in Viktor, answering gruffly, “ _ Probably not, I have to keep my head on straight for my Yuuri.” _

 

_ My Yuuri. _

 

Yakov hung up at that, and Viktor’s arm swung down to hang limply at his side, defeated.  

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, Yuuri and Viktor try to adjust their relationship to the competition, and find their grooves as coach and protege.
> 
> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! I also am working on a few Voltron ones, but my primary focus is usually YOI. I'm planning on getting back to regular updates once April hits. Also, if you like this, share with friends and drop a kudos or a comment! You might make my whole day<3


	2. Gold Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor are at odds heading into the free skate. Later, Yuuri finds himself making a bold decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello!
> 
> I'm sorry for the late chapter, but on the plus side I'll still be updating this Monday! I went on an adventure for two weeks, and then was on-call for my job when someone had pneumonia, which meant I didn't get the chance to finish editing this. I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> As always, you guys are amazing. I've never felt that this fic had to be the most popular, because the tight-knit group of readers I have for this are all such wonderful and caring human beings. That's all I ever needed. I'm grateful for each and every one of you<3
> 
> This chapter deals with a rough sex scene. I want to alert in case of any triggers, but if you want to skip it just don't read part the four ****.
> 
> If this fic makes you feel some type of way, reach out to a loved one. Then, find the nearest pet store. Watch all the fishies swim around, or even take one home and name it after our favorite boys. It won't fix it, but it'll help.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Viktor Nikiforov was not afraid of much in life.  He’d managed to get by without crippling anxiety, but instead a cavernous emptiness that ached to be filled.  His impulsive decisions and unhealthy lifestyle fueled him, stoked the fire in the empty place, only for it to be snuffed out and require an even bigger fire to take its place.

 

As he sat at the bar in the downstairs of the hotel, Viktor was watching a small group of men take multi-colored shots (that all happened to be on fire).  He was nursing his own drink: a mojito with mint dancing around his straw.

 

At this point, Viktor was just playing with his straw.

 

Today, he had tried to be like Yakov after Yuuri finished his skate, but now… he wasn’t so sure that was even the right way to go, anymore.

 

It was kind of like someone had pulled the rug out from under him.  He didn’t  _ know  _ any other way.  He’d been taught in one manner his whole life, and found it incredibly vexing to all of the sudden need to find a new way to do things.

 

For Yuuri, he’d do anything.  However, the operative word there is “do”.  He’d  _ do  _ anything for Yuuri, but does that mean he’ll reach into the very core of his being and start twisting at the very foundation of his life, his career, even his world?

 

Yuuri’s big brown eyes glinting with scarlet came to mind, suddenly, the light hitting them as the owner was being fucked into the mattress.  Their voices were being trapped in the humidity of the air, their bodies burning with want but so exhausted they could barely keep going.  A smile of Yuuri’s also came to mind, but not his huge smile when he saw a pork cutlet bowl, or when he was embarrassed and sheepish.  No, this was the tiny smile Yuuri reserved for when something touched him deep in his soul. When he found comfort in another human’s existence, Yuuri’s lips remained sealed and his nose crinkled a little during that smile.

 

Maybe these were the new cornerstones that his coaching philosophy should be based off of, not years of cruel and sterile teaching methods.

 

He left a good tip at the bar, leaving the drink almost completely full.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri and Viktor sat at breakfast the next morning, Viktor nibbling thoughtfully at his muffin, and Yuuri picking apart his croissant with gusto.

 

“I suggest that we only do one quad today,” Viktor said slowly.  He thought of what Minako said, but knew in his heart that lowering to jump difficulty will help his performance.  He would, however, be careful about talks after the program.

 

When Yuuri looked up from his croissant, glasses falling on the bridge of his nose a bit, he said, “Fine.”

 

Their silence commingled with the smell of coffee and pastries, all their thoughts choking the air.

 

Yuuri could hardly breathe, standing after he successfully tore up most of his croissant.  

 

As Yuuri walked out, Viktor looked up, hands gripping into fists in frustration.

  
  


***

  
  


Later, at the rink, Viktor and Yuuri came together warily, speaking in short staccato bursts of thought barely distinguishable over the commotion of all the passerby.  Yuuri stared off into space, listening to the other skaters talk about attempting quads.  Yuuri can do quads just fine compared to them.  If they could do it, he could do it. Viktor was obviously just…

 

...Viktor shot Yuuri a small, almost unnoticeable smile with his lips closed, conveying frustration but also affection.  How was he able to do that? How was he able to melt Yuuri’s heart, even when he hated him?

 

He didn’t hate him though.

 

That was _love_ in the press of Viktor’s lips, unmistakably, a love that Yuuri couldn’t help but feel flare in his chest.

 

As everything moved around them, for one private second their eyes met, electric with their intensity, and all else melted away but them and the space between them was suddenly a vacuum, pulling them closer together so that Viktor could brush his thumb lightly over Yuuri’s palm.  

 

It was quiet in Yuuri’s mind.

 

As soon as the moment began, it ended, and they were walking out to watch the competition.

 

In that moment, Yuuri was going to let Viktor win.  He was going to reduce his program down to one quad, because how could someone who looks at him with so much tenderness be wrong?  How could Yuuri even question the great Viktor Nikiforov?

 

Yuuri would do what Viktor planned.

 

His focus was on going through his new jump sequence, and he saw Minami get excited to his left, but he had his own work to do, his own battles to win.  He skated onto the ice with determination and purpose, taking deep, calming breaths.

 

For a moment, everything was fine.  He was fine, the world was at peace besides the teeming masses of people around him, and the other skaters were all focusing on their own routines, so Yuuri could sink into his own personal bubble.  Yeah, he was finally calming down.

 

Gentle spins melted into jumps that Yuuri was comfortable with.  His skin wasn’t crawling, it was settling, and a low burning confidence started rising up in him with each good piece of his warm-up.  

 

He trusted Viktor to make this decision.  He’s his coach after all, he knew Yuuri’s limits better than Yuuri himself.  If Viktor thinks he should lower the jump difficulty, then… then that’s that.

 

As he got off the ice, he realized that the small, tender smile had died on Viktor’s lips, instead being left with a ghost that bent his mouth into a disappointed frown.

 

Panic jolted through him.  What did he do wrong? He practiced the jumps with the lowered difficulty, just like he asked.  What… where did he mess up? How was he supposed to fix it?

 

Then Viktor spit out a line about being disappointed in Yuuri, because how was he supposed to motivate himself if he couldn’t motivate a fan?

 

Minami’s face swam in Yuuri’s vision, making him feel sick.

 

His skate guards were slammed onto the wall with a thud, and Yuuri felt a cold dread soak through him.  It had to be Minami, right? The kid had obviously wanted to talk to Yuuri earlier, but the professional thing to do was mind his own business.  What did Viktor expect of him anyway? He’s a nervous wreck around everyone! They might have a few minutes of small talk before Minami would realize that the great Katsuki Yuuri is just… him.

 

Just him.  

 

Just another dime a dozen figure skater.  

 

Just an anxious mess of insecurities and inferiority that wasn’t truly anything special anyway…

 

_...an amazing skater like you doesn’t have a shameful past… _

 

... _ for looking up to you all this time… _

 

Somehow Yuuri found himself cast as the main character in someone else’s play, and somehow he became all these impossible things that he simply... wasn’t.  It was clearly a dramatization. Minami couldn’t admire Yuuri that much because Minami didn’t know Yuuri, of course. He only saw what he wanted to see; there was no peeking behind the curtain, there were no concrete interactions that Minami could base his idol off of.

 

If he met Yuuri, the disappointment would eat him alive.  Besides, better to have him hate him now and save Yuuri the grief of attempting the social interaction at all.  That's the safer option, anyway.

 

Yes, that was it.  He would foster hate in Minami, and decide where he wanted the relationship to go from there.  Their dynamic was completely under Yuuri’s control that way, not Minami’s.

 

Minami couldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t look up to Yuuri anymore, right?

 

That was the whole point, though, wasn’t it?

 

A memory floated to the surface, shiny and faded, of Yuuri seeing Viktor in person for the first time.  What he wouldn’t give to know Viktor, to have Viktor know his name.

 

Yuuri’s eyes widened suddenly, because over the last few months Yuuri has gotten to know Viktor, with all of his dark spots and nuances and problems, but had he really considered him less now?  Was Yuuri casting himself in this light without really giving Minami even the chance to admire or hate him at his own right?

 

Anxiety was a bitch, sometimes.  Sometimes it was better to hurt than to get hurt.  Forcibly pressing his anxiety down, he looked up at Minami, getting ready on the ice, and screamed, “Hey Minami, good luck!”

 

His heart jumped to his throat; his anxiety came crashing down on him like a torrent of rain.  What if that had been stupid? Everyone grew so quiet in the wake of his yelling, and suddenly Yuuri very much wished he would melt into a pile of goo.  However, when he looked at Minami, whose eyes were shining with happy tears, all those fears melted instead of him.

 

He’d taken a risk.  That was almost unheard of for Yuuri Katsuki.  He took a risk and it paid off, in the form of confidence exuding off of the young skater in front of him.

 

While Minami skated, he couldn’t help but remember being young like that, of having so many discouraging thoughts and doubts, of feeling like a failure even he was on the top of the podium.  Minami didn’t seem to have that. He was all sparkling charisma and excitement was practically shining out of him.

 

It hit him like a sucker punch, then.  Every once and awhile, mental illness gets cast in the harsh light of reality, as you realize that you had lost so much to it.  Lost dates, lost adventures, lost dreams all withering at mental illness’ doorstep. 

 

_Minami_ will never struggle with self harm.  Minami would never spend hours of the day belittling himself.  Minami would never wake up on the bathroom floor from another sleepless night because everything was just too much too much…

 

He watched the rest of the performance, but he felt… bereft, like he lost a part of him that he didn’t even know he was supposed to have.

 

However, at the end of the performance he made sure to congratulate Minami.  

 

Vicious envy never suited Yuuri anyway.

 

As he took off his own team Japan jacket, Yuuri couldn’t help but think about risks.  He hadn’t taken enough of them in his life, for obvious reasons. When everything is scary, it’s hard to convince himself to perch precariously on that ledge.  

 

But… Minami had so much life, so much energy and passion and intensity…

 

Maybe he should start learning a thing or two from him.

 

Viktor complimented his costume, and a resolute seriousness settled over him.  He took a risk with Minami, and it paid off. Now he was going to take a risk of his own.  As Viktor put chapstick on, Yuuri tried his best to not make eye contact, not wanting Viktor to see his plan through his expressive eyes.

 

They hugged, awkwardly, as Yuuri wondered just how mad Viktor would be.

  
  


***

  
  


Yuuri felt like he was floating through a fever dream for the rest of the night.  He won first place, and not only that, he… he had fun. He took risks, and made himself look weird and also breathtaking.  As Yuuri looked up at a screencap of his performance, for the first time in his life, he felt… beautiful.

 

The younger skaters all asked for his autograph.  They all took selfies together, even with Yuuri’s rapidly swelling nose, and Viktor and him made the rounds to people, taking compliments.  

 

Viktor had a possessive hand on the small of his back, guiding him through all the interactions at first, but soon Yuuri stepped away from the guidance and started walking around himself, nervously greeting people and posing for pictures.

 

When he turned around and met Viktor’s eyes, they were soft and also a little sad, but mostly full of love as he watched Yuuri make the rounds without him.

 

Yuuri nodded for Viktor to join him, and the two of them enjoyed their victory.

  
  


****

  
  


Viktor knew that Yuuri had slammed his face into the wall not an hour or two before, but as he slammed Yuuri up against his hotel room door, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

 

They stumbled hotly and wordlessly into the room with the card key, and they froze up for a few moments.  Yuuri carefully took off his costume and put it away. Viktor very delicately took off his suit, pressing it out over the chair in the room.

 

They had to be careful with them, after all.  The last thing they needed was for Yuuri’s costume to rip because they got too frisky.

 

The lamplight illuminated from above, and cast Yuuri as stark contrasts as Yuuri’s eyes ran over Viktor’s body suggestively.

 

Viktor smiled, whispering, “You’ve been a bad boy, Yuuri.”

 

The words sent shivers down Yuuri’s spine, and drew him magnetically closer to Viktor.  The older man towered over Yuuri suddenly, making him feel so small in comparison.

 

“I took a risk, but I did the right thing,” Yuuri said shakily, but Viktor clicked his tongue, hands coming up to grip Yuuri’s hips tightly.

 

“You disobeyed your coach, Yuuri.”

 

It was a little bit of an adjustment for Yuuri to allow Viktor to take control like this.  It wasn’t unwelcome, just less common.than normal, but quickly he felt himself grow warm under Viktor’s predatory gaze.

 

He remembered what he had said earlier about taking risks.  It was always easier to do in the safe space of their love, where nothing else could touch them.

 

Yuuri realized with a start that his confidence started right here, with Viktor.  That was where it had started growing into something completely new and even a little scary.  His relationship with Viktor brought him to the very mindset that caused him to defy his coach today. He couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips.

 

“How are you going to punish me?” Yuuri breathed into Viktor’s neck, and suddenly Yuuri was being lifted up and slammed against the wall, his whole body groaning with satisfaction from the hit.  

 

He’d always been a glutton for pain, anyway.

 

Viktor’s hot body was pressing against Yuuri’s back, sending wonderful sensations over his bare skin and making his cock weep.

 

Their lips came together in hot presses and bites, so much rougher than normal but also so good.  Viktor was hovering behind him, hands massaging his ass and sending tingles down his legs and straight to his hardening cock.  They were already all the way naked, and Viktor’s cock was pressing teasingly against Yuuri’s ass, precome dripping wetly over him.

 

“Viktor… the lube…”

 

Grinning devilishly, Viktor nipped at Yuuri’s ear.  “You think I’m going to give it to you so easily, when you went against my orders today?”

 

At the word “orders” Yuuri gasped, tilting his head to the side so that Viktor could continue to kiss and suck at the skin there.

 

“What… do I have to do.”

 

Yuuri’s pupils were blown wide with want, and Viktor’s fingers were dancing across the flat plane of Yuuri’s belly, getting teasingly close to Yuuri’s erection.

 

Viktor hummed in excitement, lips vibrating over Yuuri’s pulse.  “To start, you can suck me off. That will begin to make up for it.”

 

The thought sent a surge of pleasure through Yuuri.  “Yes, coach,” he whispered, not unlike the tone of “yes, master,”and soon he was turning around and dropping to his knees, mouth watering to get Viktor’s cock in it.

 

“Be good for me and suck me off, baby,” Viktor cooed, and Yuuri nosed at the base of Viktor’s erection, loving how sexy he felt and how blown away he was with this change in dynamic.  He definitely wasn’t planning on complaining.

 

Yuuri started licking stripes up the side of Viktor’s cock, taking in the shape and feel across his tongue.  The skin was dragging with Yuuri’s mouth, stretching and getting covered in Yuuri’s saliva, practically dripping down Yuuri’s chin.

 

Viktor hissed at the sight, bracing his hands against the wall behind Yuuri, legs starting to shake with the sensation.

 

Yuuri was on a role, though.  His arms came up and wrapped around Viktor’s ass, steadying and kneading at the muscular flesh there, fingernails scraping and biting into plush skin.  The pain felt good as Yuuri bobbed down and took the cock in his mouth, relaxing his throat and pressing Viktor in as far as he could, the aching burn only making him hornier by the second.

 

He was sucking greedily now, taking huge mouthfuls of Viktor into himself before popping off of him and teasing him again by sucking at the base of his shaft and lightly biting at Viktor’s torso.

 

Growling, Viktor pressed forward until his erection pressed Yuuri’s lips open, and he hummed and took the cock back in, savoring the wet, warm heaviness against his tongue.

 

Sometimes, Yuuri doesn’t think he takes the time to really appreciate the alabaster magic that was Viktor’s cock.  It was just curved enough to hit him in all the right places, it was thick enough to stretch Yuuri’s mouth happily further open, and it wasn’t so long that Yuuri choked on it.  In a way, it was his perfect cock. How fitting.

 

Viktor didn’t last long with the way Yuuri was playing with him, shooting down Yuuri’s throat.  Yuuri swallowed it, and afterwards his head fell back against the wall behind him as he looked up at Viktor, drunk on desire.

 

“Fuck me,” Yuuri begged, but Viktor shook his head, kneeling down with Yuuri and pressing him against the wall harshly, trapping his lover there in a cage of his arms.  His cock had a little bit of room against Yuuri’s stomach, and Viktor’s fingers started handling it very roughly, massaging it and twisting his wrist in just the right way to make Yuuri  _ keen  _ in pleasure.

 

They got Yuuri off like that, rough and dirty against the hotel room wall, and when they were done, they looked up at the bed, so far away, in defeat.

 

With a smile flashed between them, they pulled the blankets and pillows off the bed and made a tiny blanket fort right where they lay, curling up together as Viktor hummed the piano part to Yuuri’s free skate.

 

It was easy, right now.  The competition was over, so the pressure was off, but that didn’t make all their problems go away.  

 

Just, for now, it had disappeared into the distance.

 

In the soft lamplight, as they renewed their tenderness with gentle caresses and curling closer together, Yuuri whispered, “Did I do well today, coach?”

 

Humming, Viktor looked into Yuuri’s eyes searchingly.  

 

“You were stunning.  No one could look away.”

 

Biting his lip teasingly, Yuuri pressed a soft kiss to Viktor’s pulse point on his wrist, looking up through heavily lidded eyes.

 

“You know that you’re the reason I could do that, right?”

 

There was a moment of ringing silence, before Viktor said sternly, “Yuuri, look at me.”

 

Their eyes met, Viktor’s full of emotion as he stared at Yuuri in all seriousness.

 

“You were always capable of performing the way you did today.  You are an incredible skater all by yourself. I’m just along to get a front row seat to watch you succeed.”

 

Yuuri’s grip on Viktor tightened.

 

“Do you really think that I can win?”

 

It was so quiet that Viktor had to strain to hear it, bristling immediately.

 

“I know that you’ll win, Yuuri.  We’re going to make it to the Grand Prix and destroy the competition, you watch.”

 

Grinning happily, Yuuri snuggled closer to Viktor, falling asleep almost instantly.

 

Viktor brushed his fingers through the dark mop of hair underneath him, and thought longingly of gold medals.  Not of his own, of course: the collection of them were standing on a dusty shelf with pictures and plaques with words long since forgotten.  He thought instead of one hanging around Yuuri’s neck, and suddenly Viktor felt himself glow with pride.

 

No one was going to take this away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Yuuri spends time working on his theme. Viktor gets unexpected news
> 
> If you like this, comment or share! You can also drop a kudos. Otherwise, see you Monday!
> 
> If you like this, check out my other fics! I do mostly YOI and dabble in a little Voltron


	3. Golden Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor take a day to themselves after the competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello<3
> 
> Thank you all for being patient with me the last few weeks while I got my life together. The next few months should see a regular posting schedule. Stay tuned for more fluff, angst, love, and smut than you can shake a stick at. As I've mentioned, this fic will be dealing more with external stress from the competition season, as opposed to Yuuri and Viktor battling their inner demons in "SDP". 
> 
> If this fic makes you feel some type of way, please reach out to a loved one. Schedule an appointment with your doctor to discuss your mental health and what effects it has on your physical state. Don't forget to prioritize your own state of mind, and treat yourself with the same love and respect as you treat others.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

The next morning, Yuuri was already running his hands over the planes of Viktor’s body as he slowly woke up.

 

“Mmm,” he smiled, stretching and relishing in the ministrations.  “Good morning.”

 

Yuuri’s fingers continued to trace Viktor’s veins, his lips pressing hotly against Viktor’s shoulder.

 

“Fuck me,” Yuuri whispered, and Viktor cocked his head to the side, grinning dopily.

 

“The proper response is ‘Good morning Viktor, would you please fuck me?’”

 

Growling, Yuuri rolled over top of Viktor, who was sitting smugly underneath him.  His dark hair framed his hungry face, and Viktor tucked a lock of hair behind Yuuri’s ear, caressing his cheek to chin.  “What prompted this?”

 

Biting his lip, Yuuri muttered, “I just want to feel close to you.”

 

In the shimmering dawn peeking from behind the hotel room curtains, Viktor’s blue eyes sparkled.  “Can we at least make it to the bed this time?”

 

“You’re the one who kept us on the floor.  I blame you,” Yuuri stood up though, and as he ascended Viktor teasingly bit at Yuuri’s ass.  “Come on, Vitya, we promised that today would be about us, remember?”

 

It was in the gasping press of hot lips together the night before, when Viktor made Yuuri the promise that today, as they had the hotel until tomorrow, would be all about them making time for each other.  The promise is what made Viktor stand, a little wobbly, and run his hands over Yuuri’s back possessively as he climbed onto the bed and pulled Viktor on with him, collapsing with Viktor in a tangle of limbs and laughter and the fresh feeling of the day.

 

There wasn’t anything sexual about it, yet.  Until Yuuri rolled Viktor over onto his back, licking and sucking at his chest, starting to move them towards his original goal.

 

“I haven’t fucked you in weeks, Yuuri,” Viktor gasped out between licks, “What’s the occasion?”

 

There was a pause where Yuuri came back just a few inches, not meeting Viktor’s eyes but blushing all the way down to his collarbone.  “I liked you taking charge last night. I think I needed it after the day we had, and I’m not sure I’m ready to let you stop yet.”

 

Cocking an eyebrow, Viktor sat up so that Yuuri was kneeling in the space between Viktor’s legs, and their faces were at the same level, then.

 

His messy hair was tousled around his face, and Yuuri was making direct eye contact now despite his clear anxiety written across his features.

 

“How can I say no to that face?” Viktor whispered, leaning forward to nip playfully at Yuuri’s lip as it broke into a relieved smile.  “Hands and knees.”

 

The response was immediate; Yuuri scrambled to get on his hands and knees, ass presented up to Viktor, who came up on his knees to kneel behind him and survey his prize.  The lube was on the nightstand from the night before, and he grabbed it now, letting the slippery substance drip between his fingers as he started with one finger circling his lover’s entrance and the other reaching around to start pumping his cock.

 

Whimpering, Yuuri’s face fell into the bed.  He bit at the sheets, and Viktor smiled, whispering, “You okay, love?”

 

The nod was extremely quick and was broken up by the gasp when Viktor breached Yuuri, swirling around to press against each of his walls.

 

Viktor was extra careful and tender, knowing that Yuuri hadn’t been prepped like this in weeks.  He took his time drawing gasps and moans that were bit into the sheets, a symphony of Yuuri wasted on the low thread count.

 

“I want to hear you, love,” Viktor whispered, and Yuuri didn’t budge, screaming out when Viktor pushed a third finger in.  He got an idea suddenly, commanding darkly, “Yuuri, get up or I’ll have to punish you.”

 

They both froze, but Yuuri didn’t let the sheets go yet, prompting Viktor to wind his other hand up and aim a slap directly at Yuuri’s ass.

 

“Oh,” Yuuri moaned, face finally coming off of the sheets and calling out into the room.  “Oh, Viktor, fuck do that again…”

 

It was very difficult to say no to Yuuri, especially when his voice sounded so thoroughly wrung out.  His hand came down on the already red cheek, and curled his fingers inside of Yuuri at the same time, making Yuuri stutter, “V-viktor, ah, please…”

 

Removing his fingers, he lined himself up with Yuuri, rocking into the cleft of his ass.  “How much do you want me?”

 

“Viktor, I don’t just want you.  I need you, I need your cock inside of me right now.  Please don’t make me wait.”

 

He pressed his ass back for emphasis, forcing Viktor’s cock down towards his perineum, which made Yuuri gasp deliciously.  Viktor was never good at teasing, anyway.  He grasped at Yuuri’s hips, bringing himself back and then sinking into Yuuri harshly.

 

It was clear that they hadn’t had sex like this in a while; Yuuri was almost maddeningly tight and Viktor had to exert a lot of self control in order not to come right then and there.  His own hole clenched around nothing, body confused in the switch of roles. Leaning over Yuuri, he leveraged his shoulders and bottomed out, laying flesh on top of Yuuri’s back, rocking back and forth gently, biting teasingly at Yuuri’s shoulder blades.

 

“Harder, Viktor, please,” he begged, and Viktor stilled, grinning.

 

“As you wish.”

 

Straightening up, his fingers clenched on Yuuri’s hips again, sweat starting to slick the skin there.  Viktor took a breath, and then pulled out, slamming back in aggressively, enough to make him cry out at the sensation of burying himself back into the tight heat.  

 

Viktor was harsh but maddeningly slow, relishing in each sound he coaxed out of Yuuri, who was grinding backwards desperately trying to push his lover deeper.

 

Eventually, Viktor was having a difficult time keeping the pace from quickening as he chased after his orgasm.  However, he wanted Yuuri to come first.  Viktor wrapped his other hand around Yuuri’s cock and stroked it harshly with a flick of his wrist, making Yuuri murmur something in Japanese that Viktor didn’t recognize, but a few stroked later and he was clenching around Viktor and coming into the sheets.  Viktor chased his own orgasm not too far away, burying himself deeply inside of Yuuri to release, seeing white as he came down from the high.

 

As he softened inside of Yuuri, he pulled out and slowly lowered Yuuri to the bed on his belly, where the younger man whined at the loss of Viktor’s cock.

 

“Do you want a plug?” Viktor asked in a throaty voice, and Yuuri’s face screwed up in embarrassment, nodding quickly.

 

Viktor fumbled through the bag next to the bed until he found Yuuri’s favorite plug and pressed it in to keep his come inside of Yuuri for a little bit longer.

 

Kissing up Yuuri’s spine, he laid down next to him and brought his back up to his chest, spooning him and tangling their legs together.   He kissed at Yuuri’s bright red cheeks, whispering reassurance.

 

Yuuri leaned back into the attention, exposing his neck for Viktor to kiss at softly.

 

“I love you,” Yuuri said into the quiet of the morning, and Viktor grinned, peeking sunlight striping the two of them across the bed.

 

Viktor nibbled at Yuuri’s ear, whispering “I love you too,” breathily just loud enough for him to hear, and they fell back asleep like that for a little while, hiding in the break of day in their own little world.

 

***

 

Later that morning Viktor and Yuuri finally actually got up and took a shower, dressing for the day between kisses and hugs.  Viktor wouldn't separate from Yuuri even for a second.

 

“Viktor, I can’t put on my shirt if you’re clinging to me,” Yuuri giggled, but Viktor whined when he tried to move away.

 

“I don’t want to let you go,” Viktor complained, but relented and let Yuuri bring his shirt over his head before tackling him in a hug again.  Yuuri huffed but felt himself glow with happiness at the attention.

 

Eventually they made it downstairs to the tiny cafe in the lobby of the hotel.  They maintained the appropriate distance as they weren’t sure who would still be in the area, nibbling at their eggs and sausage and shooting each other covert glances periodically.

 

After breakfast they went on a short walk in the area, surveying the beautiful park nearby and just enjoying the weather before the chill of fall really settled in.  They found a small area in the trees that was mostly covered and Viktor brought Yuuri in for a goofy kiss, using his finger to tilt Yuuri’s head up.

 

Grinning, Yuuri muttered, “Are you sure this is safe, coach?”

 

“Can’t help it,” Viktor said very seriously, “You’re just gorgeous in nature.”

 

“Cheesy,” Yuuri shook his head in false disappointment, hand coming to rest on Viktor’s chest as Viktor went in again for another kiss.

 

With a smile, last minute he swerved away, walking around Yuuri.  Forgetting about the hand on his check, Viktor felt a strong arm pull him back into a crushing, harsh kiss.  “You don’t get away that easily, Nikiforov,” Yuuri growled, and Viktor swore that his face would break from how hard he was smiling.

 

***

 

When they got back to the hotel room, Yuuri decided to head down to the gym to work out and Viktor stayed upstairs, clicking around on social media.  There were quite a few notifications from people posting about the competition yesterday, congratulating them.

 

Then his phone screen went black with a call from Yakov Feltsman.

 

Sighing, Viktor answered it, holding his breath for the voice on the other end when he said, “Hello.”

 

“ _I saw how you did.  Your skater has some work to do, but overall his performance was satisfactory.”_

 

In Yakov terms, that was as good as telling Viktor that Yuuri was stellar.  Viktor was stunned for a moment, before tapping his finger on his leg.

 

“ _Thank you.  I appreciate you calling to tell me that.”_

 

There was a pause for a moment, before, “ _That isn’t why I called, Vitya.”_

 

Dread started bleeding in his stomach, making his heartbeat speed up significantly.  “ _This is what you were going to tell me the other day.”_

It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

 

_“It’s your mother, Vitya.  She wants to meet with you.”_

 

Viktor opened his mouth, closed it, and felt the world start to shift around him.  The phone slipped out of his hand and onto the bed, and Viktor could hear the sound of Yakov trying to talk to him until he pressed “end”, frozen where he sat.

 

***

 

That night the two of them curled up in the bed, watching the film from the competition and going over Yuuri’s performance.  The little details made him nervous, but Viktor was actually doing a good job of giving constructive criticism.

 

There were moments when Yuuri looked over and Viktor was a thousand miles away, staring into the distance.

 

“Vitya?”

 

When he turned back to Yuuri, he smiled brilliantly, pressing a kiss to the other man’s forehead.  “I’m here, Yuuri. Just thinking.”

 

Those words, “just thinking”, echoed around in Yuuri’s head.  What was he thinking about? Was it about Yuuri, and the competition?  Was it revolving around their relationship, their sex life, Viktor’s depression?  What could “just thinking” even mean?

 

Yuuri found himself unable to turn his mind off that night, the question chasing him into the wee hours of the morning, when Yuuri finally crossed into a fitful sleep.

 

Little did he know, but Viktor was curled against him fighting to fall asleep as well.  However, they both assumed the other was knocked out, and neither of them spoke, sleep eventually claiming them both.

 

***

 

The train ride home the next morning was quiet.  Yuuri fell asleep on Viktor’s shoulder, and he couldn’t find it in his heart to wake him, especially not because he was worried someone would see.  There were only three other people in their train car, all of which were very interested in what was going on on their phone screen.

 

Mari picked them up from the station, and before they knew it they were walking into a small celebration.  Yuuko, Takeshi, Hiroko, Toshiya, Minako, Mari and the triplets were all gathered in the sitting area, and Yuuri blushed profusely, looking nervous but excited simultaneously.

 

When Viktor saw this, he took Yuuri’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.  Yuuri looked up at him with wide brown eyes, and with the way they looked at each other in pure trust... Viktor fell in love again, positively melting.

 

“Congratulations, Yuuri!” they all called out, and Yuuri found himself being passed off between loved ones, being hugged and given some delicious food and pictures were taken for social media and in all the flurry Yuuri kept glancing over at Viktor, who for the most part was saving face.   Every once and awhile, though, Yuuri saw something was haunting his boyfriend.  The blue eyes of the Russian were unfocused in those moments, and he had to ask people to repeat themselves multiple times.

 

The triplets went into a long in-depth discussion about Yuuri’s assignments and his competition, talking base scores and jump difficulty and previous personal bests.  

 

“If you perform with no mistakes, you’re a shoe-in to at least place on the podium,” Yuuko encouraged, and the triplets all nodded in unison, ambushing Yuuri with suggestions to increase his difficulty and what he needed to do to place above those he was competing with in the Cup of China.

 

Viktor was next to him, arm loosely connected to Yuuri’s waist, when his phone started ringing.

 

Instead of answering it, he sent it immediately to voicemail.

 

Frowning, Yuuri nudged him.  “You can answer it, you know.  It’s okay.”

 

For a second Viktor froze, but then his face melted into a small smile.  “It’s fine, I can get it later.”

 

The party ended with cake, and Yuuri’s mouth watered over it until Viktor relented.  “Fine, but you go back to your diet tomorrow.”

 

They fed each other, much to everyone’s happy laughter and also moans at the PDA.  

 

When Loop and Lutz had both fallen asleep against Makkachin, and Axel was sniffling angrily about “not wanting to go yet”, everyone retired for the night.  Yuuri helped his family clean up, and his mother caught him as he was putting away leftovers.

 

“I’m so proud of you, Yuuri.  You’re doing so well.”

 

A watery smile broke out across Yuuri’s face.  “Thanks, mom. That means a lot.”

 

***

 

Later that night, Viktor was fast asleep while Yuuri was still clicking around on his phone.  He heard a vibration suddenly, and reached over to grab Viktor’s phone.

 

_Phone call from Yakov Feltsman._

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri nudged him, but the Russian was dead asleep.

 

Sighing, he answered, saying, “Katsuki Yuuri speaking.”

 

“Why do you have Vitya’s phone?” a harsh voice asked on the other end in very accented English.

 

For a moment he panicked, but then answered smoothly, “He’s asleep.  Is it an emergency?”

 

“No it’s not.  Just tell him to call me back at his earliest convenience.”

 

The phone clicked off, and Yuuri’s brow furrowed, watching the “end call” flicker before the phone screen returned to the lock screen image of Makkachin licking Yuuri happily.

 

Placing the phone down, Yuuri remembered the moments that Viktor had looked distant for the last two days, and the times he’d sent his phone directly to voicemail.  Was Yakov calling all of those times? What was happening? Should he be concerned.

 

Yuuri nuzzled into the pillow, watching Viktor’s peaceful sleeping face, wishing he could know the answer without waking him up.

 

Oh well, then.  It would be a problem for tomorrow.

 

***

 

The next morning when Yuuri woke up, it was to an empty bed.  Viktor was gone, and so was his phone. Yuuri sat up, remembering that Viktor would go on a run most mornings, but still feeling the loss of him all the same.

 

Wandering out of the bedroom, he strode towards the kitchen area, where he could hear Viktor talking in English to someone.

 

“...who else to talk to.  This is something that I have no idea how to handle.”

 

His own mother answered with concern in her voice.  “Vicchan, if you have things to say to her then maybe this trip would be a good idea.  You don’t want to leave things without proper closure,” she paused, and Yuuri could hear continue to chop up vegetables, “However, if you’re really worried about it, I understand.  You’re family to us, Vicchan. You never have to worry about being alone again.”

 

Yuuri felt like he was intruding on something, peeking around the corner to see Viktor hugging Hiroko tightly, sniffling into her shoulder.

 

Feeling confused, he backed away towards the living room, chest tightening with concern.

 

What trip were they referring to?  Is this a previous lover of Viktor’s, or maybe someone from his family?  Why did he talk to Hiroko about it and not Yuuri?

 

Not too long after that Viktor entered the living room, eyes widening when they saw Yuuri.

 

He had the face of someone who was sitting on a serious bomb, uncertain and twitchy.

 

“Can I talk to you in our room, _lyubov moya_?”

 

Oh, so he wasn’t going to keep it from Yuuri; he was just seeking advice from his mother first.  Feeling a little upset that he would doubt Viktor, he followed Viktor back to their room, where Viktor started running his shaking hands through his own silver locks, eyes staring off into nothing.

 

“I… Yakov called me a few times the last few days.  I talked to him this morning, and he told me that my mother wants to arrange to meet with me.”

 

It hit Yuuri like lightning.  “You… haven’t seen her in years,” Yuuri choked out, “How do you feel?  What do you want to do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Viktor muttered, eyes unfocused.  Yuuri had never seen Viktor look so troubled by something, and he found himself standing up and pulling him into a tight hug.

 

“She… I haven’t seen her since she ran away from the hospital.  I’ve gotten the occasional birthday card, but I haven’t really talked to her since she… you know,” Viktor’s voice shook a little bit, “I don’t understand.  Why now? What changed?”

 

“You don’t trust this,” Yuuri said slowly, comprehension dawning.

 

Viktor shook his head.  “Of course I don’t. She tried to leave me by killing herself, and then actually left me by running away.  I know that she’s married and has a kid, but I don’t… even if she’s gotten herself together, she can’t erase the last sixteen years…”

 

“You can say no,” Yuuri said softly, reaching out and gently stroking Viktor’s forearm.  “No one will think any less of you if you do.”

 

Face screwed up in emotion, Viktor mumbled softly,  “Can you just… hold me?”

 

Nodding, Yuuri laid back on the bed with his arms out for Viktor, who crawled onto him and buried his face in Yuuri’s chest, tears falling readily, now.  Yuuri brushed his hair back, shushing him gently.

 

They stayed like that until Yuuri couldn’t feel his toes, until Viktor whispered, “Thank you,” into the room, and Yuuri just squeezed him tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will include trigger warnings in regards to Viktor's estranged relationship with his mother in the tags. If this is something that brings up bad memories, I'm so very sorry. I'll try to give warning in the beginning notes.
> 
> Next time: Viktor debates what to do with his mother's request. Also, Yuuri tries to be there for Viktor and also plan his presentation of his theme.


	4. Bake Until Golden Brown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor deliberates over whether or not he wants to take up the offer to meet with his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> So I recently had a few people post really meaningful comments on SDP and this, and I just gotta say that letting me know how you feel about my work usually brings tears to my eyes and makes my heart soar. I'm so lucky that each of you are on this journey with me.
> 
> This chapter deals with flashbacks for Viktor, both memories he has forgotten and memories he has retained. There is a little bit of content that isn't as normal for this fic, including alcoholism, drug use, and parental dysfunction. Please always keep yourself focused on how you feel while reading this fic. If you start to feel some type of way, please reach out to a loved one. Buy yourself a tiny plant that you can name and love and care for. Having a living thing depend on you can fill some of the void, even if it's just a little bit.
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

_ Viktor, six years old _

 

Memory is a funny thing. You can remember with clarity the exact smell of the snacks you were eating while watching your favorite movie, or recognize a playground set that you played on, but somehow other, far more relevant details were lost to time.  The brain has to make room for new memories, so it clears all the information it seemed irrelevant or repetitive and inserts in the new information, like your favorite cereal, or your new routine.

 

Viktor doesn’t remember this day.  It’s January 14th, and he’s sitting in his dilapidated apartment, his parents fighting again.  

 

Ana was scream-sobbing that she couldn’t live without Leo.  She’d found needles in the trash and demanded to know what he was using, but he denied it vehemently.  “ _ Darling, I’m not doing drugs again!  Please believe me…” _

 

She spit on the floor at his feet.  Her hair fell in vicious curls down her reddened face as she threw a plate at the wall.  “ _ You’re trash, Leo.  I hate that I love you.  I hate that I need you…”  _ she broke off in a sob _. _

 

Viktor was playing with his toy train, listening to the conversation with interest.  His parents fought often, especially about his father's bad habits.  He didn’t care what, just that it helped him escape.  His father often said that he was dead inside, and the only thing that brings him back to life are the drugs, and this sentiment would wriggle it’s way into Viktor’s brain and latch on tight.

 

“ _ I wouldn’t risk getting my job back at the bank by going in high, Ana, I swear.” _

 

They’d both heard it a hundred times before, and would hear it a hundred times again.

 

There was another smash, and Viktor trembled, knowing what it was like to be around his mother when she was angry.  He clutched the train tight enough that there was an indent on his skin of the logo.

 

Memory was very funny, because Viktor only remembers when his father was kind.  When he brought him to get ice cream, when he kissed the top of his head before bed.  He would remember these careful moments, and the one thing he remembered from the bad times was the sentiment that drugs make it better.

 

He died a good father, because Viktor let go of all other memories.  They scattered like the seeds of the dandelion puff blown into the wind, because Viktor wished and wished with all his might that his father was a good man.

 

He was a good man, he swears.

 

The truth blew away with the memories

  
  


_ Present Day _

  
  


Viktor’s fingers tapped idly on his laptop, watching the screen load.  His eyes were squinted in a frown, lips drawn together tightly.

 

Finally the screen flashed-  _ round trip to St. Petersburg... _

 

Viktor screenshot the image and bit his lip, brushing his silver hair back.  He felt a kiss to the top of his head suddenly, and he looked up to see Hiroko looking at him fondly.  He blushed furiously, not used to this kind of attention from the adults in his life. Well-him and Yuuri were both adults- and he guessed most people he knew were, in fact, adults…

 

...quickly Viktor realized that the word he meant to use was “parents”.

 

Viktor got up and hugged Hiroko closely.  She patted his back, and asked, “would you like to take a walk before we start the lunch?”

 

Nodding, Viktor smiled, knowing that he needed company.  They separated to put on street clothes, and Viktor grabbed Makka and her leash.  Soon the two of them were stepping out of the inn, the sun low in the autumn sky. A brilliant array of orange and pink was illuminating the world around them.

 

It was pleasantly quiet for the first few minutes.  This was yet another thing Viktor wasn’t used to: a comfortable silence.  The silences he was used to before he moved in with the Katsuki family were usually filled to the brim and bursting with words unsaid, dripping from the air and turning into anxiety in his brain.

 

“When Yuuri was ten he ran away,” Hiroko said suddenly, and Viktor’s eyes blew wide with surprise.  Her face was oddly peaceful, despite her words, so he found himself calming down.

 

“His father and him had gotten into a fight about skating.  Toshiya wanted him to focus more on realistic careers and stop spending so much time skating.  Which, I’m sure you know very well that our Yuuri is a stubborn one.”

 

_ Our Yuuri _ , she said.  Like they were one unit.

 

Like they were…

 

“...family has a tendency to think they know what’s best when a child is young, so Yuuri couldn’t convince him.  So Yuuri packed a bag and walked out of the inn.”

 

The image was suddenly flooding Viktor’s head, of a tiny Yuuri at the door with his skates and a determined expression.  His imaginary Yuuri’s cheeks were puffed up and red. Viktor couldn’t help but melt at the image of Yuuri adjusting his glasses and marching off.  

 

“You must have been worried,” Viktor supplies helpfully, and Hiroko touched her cheek thoughtfully.

 

“I didn’t notice he was gone until the next morning, to be honest,” she chuckled, like this memory was something that brings joy and not sorrow.  Viktor was waiting for the “but”, for the lesson, but it didn’t seem to come. “Yuuri kept to himself as a child, so not seeing him after dinner wasn’t odd.  When I went to wake him up for school the next day, though, and he wasn’t there, that was when I started to panic.”

 

The wind blew her short hair back, exposing her tired face and weary expression.  She adjusted her glasses, and Viktor recognized Yuuri’s same shade of brown peering back at him.  It was slowly becoming his favorite color, and he was lost in them for a moment.

 

“Toshiya and I were frantic.  Mari had already left for school because she had a club, so the two of us closed the onsen for the day and called everyone trying to find him.  I remember standing outside of Yuuko’s house, sobbing to her mother about how I had lost my own son. I knew it was our fault, because we weren’t supporting him enough.  After a few hours, Toshiya calls me and tells me he has him, and to come home immediately.”

 

She chuckled softly then, small smile breaking out on her face.  “Yuuri was so worried that we would be mad at him for running that he was too afraid to come home.  He decided it was a bad idea about an hour after leaving. Turns out that he was hiding at Ice Castle.  He was so worried about us getting upset that he couldn’t believe it when all I wanted to do was hug him.”

 

Ah, Viktor sees where this was going now.

 

“A mother doesn’t see all the terrible things from the past.  She’s not going to look at you and think about the bad memories, she’s going to look at you and see her son.  I’m certain that she’ll be relieved to see you, Vicchan. The past should stay in the past.”

 

Swallowing thickly, he nodded, not completely convinced.  

 

“Why did Toshiya tell you to get home so quickly?”

 

At this, she brightened up in the sunshine.  “He found him at the rink, running through one of your routines that he liked.  He said that he saw something in Yuuri that he’d never seen before, and that was confidence.  Something about that performance changed the way Toshiya saw skating.  He told me that he was wrong, and that Yuuri could keep pursuing that path.”

 

Viktor warmed up at the thought of one of his routines being skated by a tiny Yuuri. Now that he thinks of it, Yuuri must have skated a lot of his routines, if he was such a big fan.

 

The thought made his insides turn to a warm mushy goo, sweetness trickling all the way to his toes.

 

“You’ve been bringing this family closer together long before we met you, dear.  Never question your place here.”

 

His lower lip trembled as he bowed and said shakily, “ _ arigato.” _

  
  


_ Viktor, Eight years old _

  
  


He woke up in the middle of the night to feel his blankets ruffling, and soon a warm body had climbed into bed with him.

 

“ _ Don’t worry, darling, go back to sleep _ ,” Ana whispered, stale cigarette smoke pouring over Viktor’s airways.  There was also a faint smell of hairspray and something Viktor couldn’t identify at the time but if asked in ten years he could tell you that it’s vodka.

 

“ _ Tell me a story,”  _ Viktor said unto the darkness, hoping his mother heard him.  She never told him stories, but the mothers on TV always read at bedtime, so Viktor figured it couldn’t hurt to try his luck.

 

Her sigh puffed the smell back in a new gust, managing to get more stale in seconds.  He felt her moussed spaghetti hair tickle his neck, and she rolled over, breasts pressing warmly against his left arm.  “ _ What kind, darling?” _

 

The TV shows didn’t help him with this part, so he said softly, “ _ I don’t care, what’s your favorite story?” _

 

There was a pregnant silence, and Viktor felt his mother fidget as she pondered, trying to get comfortable.  The smell was starting to become normal for him, and this time when he breathed in he didn’t have the urge to cough.  

 

She licked her lips hotly, then began, “ _ once upon a time there was a prince.  The prince was beautiful and wealthy and had everything he could ever want.  One day he found his princess. He saw her and couldn’t take his eyes off of her, and pursued her immediately. The princess was confused, because they had only just met, but the man was so beautiful and wealthy and her kingdom was so poor and weak that after a short courting period she agreed to marriage.  _

 

The story seemed to be riling his mother up, and her pulse point in her neck jumped as she continued on, “ _ the prince and princess became the King and Queen, and they kept trying to have princes and princesses of their own, but the Queen was having trouble conceiving.  They tried and lost so many times that it seemed impossible. The King got angry, and started telling the Queen it was all her fault. He went out to brothels and ale houses late into the night, and one night when he came back drunk he hurt the Queen in his anger.  The Queen had just taken a positive pregnancy test, but when she got hurt she lost the baby. The King felt so terrible that he started getting his act together, and not long after they had a wonderful prince. Their kingdoms flourished, and all of their hopes and pride were resting on this prince.” _

 

Viktor didn’t know why, but his mother was crying.  “ _ What happened to the prince?” _

 

Her smile was watery as she brushed a lock of hair behind Viktor’s ear.  “ _ He was perfect.” _

 

_ “What about the King and Queen?” _

 

She hiccuped, bringing Viktor to her chest in a vice-like grip, brushing his hair and whispering, “ _ they lived happily ever after.” _

 

She hiccuped again, then fell asleep with her fingers interwoven into his hair.

  
  


_ Present Day _

  
  


Viktor was in the sheets, watching Yuuri wander around in just his boxers and socks.  His boyfriend was folding laundry and putting it away as he went, and with the way his right back muscles tensed as he walked made Viktor smile.  His legs were sculpted by a god, Viktor swears. In the mid-morning lighting, the way that the curtains blew and he wind ruffled Yuuri’s hair, Viktor wished he had the energy to get up and hug the man from behind, press their bodies together so that nothing was separating them at all.

 

Which, for anyone around them, was just Viktor staring at Yuuri in awe and periodically giggling.

 

When Yuuri saw this, he cocked his head to the side.  “What?” 

 

A goofy grin split Viktor’s face, and he rolled over on his back, head tilted backwards to peer at Yuuri.  Words were dancing on his tongue, had been waiting to come out for most of his life. He didn’t remember why he wanted to so bad, but he whispered, “You’re perfect.”

  
  


***

 

Viktor and Yuuri were helping clean up from family dinner when Viktor started making both of them a cup of tea.  He put the kettle to boil, feeling Yuuri’s fingers dance lightly along his shoulder as he did so.

 

When Viktor turned around, he was surprised to see that Hiroko and Toshiya were giggling over a piece of food that had gotten in Hiroko’s hair.  Toshiya helped take it out, and Hiroko was laughing hysterically, holding his arm to keep herself from falling over.

 

A story came to mind, making him smile and reach for Yuuri’s hand.

 

“Do you ever see us like that?” Viktor asked suddenly, pressing a kiss to his palm.  

 

Stunned, Yuuri followed his eyes to his parents.  “I think we already act like dorks, Viktor.”

 

Snorting, Viktor gestures towards the other couple, who had just kissed sweetly and gone back to their dish washing, bumping shoulders.

 

“I mean older, and settled.  Living in our own kitchen, laughing over dinner.  Just… it seems so…”  _ magical _ , like a fairy tale come to life.

 

Blinking, Yuuri was speechless, looking at his parents and tightening his grip on Viktor’s hand.  Their gazes locked, and Viktor had never seen Yuuri so surprised. 

 

“Love, are you alright?”

 

His mouth thinned as he started biting the inside of his lip nervously.  “It seems like a dream,” Yuuri finally muttered, chocolate eyes shining like melted chocolate in the harsh light of the kitchen.  If Viktor didn’t know any better, he would think that Yuuri was… scared.

 

Viktor took his hand and gently lead him into his bedroom, and Yuuri was looking at the floor the whole time like he was caught doing… something.

 

He gently pushed Yuuri onto the bed, fingers tipping Yuuri’s chin up towards him.  

 

“What’s wrong, Yuuri?”

 

Tears started to form then, and Yuuri whispered, “I’ve… of course I’ve thought about us in the future, but…” his voice trailed off as his hands dropped in front of him, outstretched.  “...sometimes I forget that you’re even real.”

 

Viktor sat back on his heels, stunned.  “You don’t think that I think about these things too?”

 

Sniffling, Yuuri says defeatedly, “I don’t think, I hope.  I hope that you feel the same way but sometimes it’s hard to remind myself that you want this as badly as I do.”

 

Sitting and sniffling on the bed, Viktor brushed a feather light touch over Yuuri’s cheek.  His fingers traced Yuuri’s jawbone, thumb coming to slip down his lips and rest on his chin.   _ He looks so small like this  _ Viktor thought with a tentative smile, taking in his messy hair and shining brown eyes, running his eyes over the freckle under his earlobe, memorizing every vein and artery and line and feeling each catalogued feature filling him up with so much love and affection.  

 

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Viktor said softly, and Yuuri looked up sadly, “when I see myself in ten years living with more poodles than I can count and all of my gold medals, I can’t even imagine it without you there with me.”

 

A broken sobbing sound broke out of Yuuri, smiling through the tears streaming down his face.  “Viktor, you can’t just… say stuff like that! It’s too much, it’s too adorable,” he started chuckling, leaning his forehead to lean on Viktor’s flat abdomen.  “ how did I get so lucky?”

 

Once upon a time there was a King who found a wizard that he loved.  The wizard was quiet but determined, truly the best at his craft. The King saw this and wanted to give him all the resources in the world to realize his full potential.

 

This story also ends with a “happily ever after” somewhere, but they’re still writing it.  That line always gets a lot of hype, making the ending seem like it's the most important part.  However, sometimes the middle parts, the failing and trouble and heartbreak and love that is shown, is more important.  

 

Their story isn’t over just yet.

  
  


_ Viktor- twelve years old _

  
  


Another memory is locked tight in Viktor’s mind, and he couldn’t forget it for all the gold medals in the world.

 

It was November.  His father came home from work, and Viktor returned from practice.  They two of them just looked at each other with pure and utter exhaustion, and a devilish smile curled on their lips.

 

Before they knew it they were bursting through the supermarket doors, running down fruits and pastry dough and flour and sugar and… soon they were both giddily waiting for them to finish ringing everything up.  It was like a fire had ignited between them, and they were desperate to make sure it didn’t go out.

 

When they got back the smell of apple pie filled the house, and they worked diligently on their tasks.  Viktor can remember the fleck of flour that was on his father’s neck, just under his earlobe. He can hear the jazz music they had playing in the background, and their periodic saxophone solos.  Once the pie was in the oven, they collapsed into a flour dusted heap on the couch. A movie came pon, some sort of Godzilla remake, but they were fast asleep before they noticed.

 

His mom found them like that, leaning against each other on the couch.  Viktor had claimed that such a thing was too childish not even three days ago, but he was tucked into his father’s side just like he was a toddler.

 

Ana Nikiforov’s heart melted in her chest.  She tucked the two of them in and checked on the pie, which was a little over-cooked but still edible.  When she woke her groggy husband and son up, the three of them sat down for a pie dinner, smiling and making awkward small talk and enjoying each other’s company.

 

They put on a movie that night, the screen flashing brightly against the dark room, and Viktor remembers clearly how peaceful he felt snuggled under the blankets with his parents nibbling on popcorn next to him.

 

Once upon a time a haphazard family finally found a day of rest for their weary souls.  This was the last time. Leo saw what he was doing to his son, and decided to stop drinking while watching him chow down on pie, a smile on his face.  The wear and tear from years of alcoholism on his heart, however, had weakened it. 

 

He quit drinking, throwing all of the alcohol in the house into the dumpster outside.  Two days after this night, he had a heart attack from the withdrawal symptoms in the middle of the night.

 

The next morning, Viktor woke up to the happy taste of apple pie in his mouth, confused.  The taste turned to ash when his mother started screaming.

  
  


_ Present Day _

 

Viktor was sitting in front of his computer again the the family room.  Yuuri was watching a show on the TV, and Toshiya was busy on his tablet.

 

_ Round trip to St. Petersburg... _ Viktor sighed, getting up and walking out of the room with his phone.  He settle onto one of the outdoor benches in the garden, flipping through his phone and going back and forth in his own head.

 

His mother hadn’t reached out to him directly, but through Yakov, which took the satisfaction of saying, “I could never forgive you” off the table because it would come second-hand.  

 

Truthfully, the way he’d been feeling since finding out about his mother is… guilt.  Guilt somehow wedged itself into him. No matter how many times people tell him that it wasn’t his fault that his mother attempted suicide, that it wasn’t his fault that she left him, he somehow still came around to thinking  _ what could I have done differently? _

 

He found himself calling Chris, who answered on the third ring.

 

“Vitya, it’s good to hear from you!”

 

Viktor traded pleasantries, but soon they dried up, and Chris asked calmly, “Why did you really call?”

 

A stone that burrowed deep in his stomach grew suddenly, and he said in a choked-off voice, “My mother wants to connect with me.”

 

There was a moment of silence, until Chris’ voice, dripping with distaste, responded, “What did you say?”

 

“I don’t know what to say,” Viktor admitted, rubbing his face with his other hand in distress.  “If I don’t go see her I might regret not reconnecting with her. If I do, what if… what if she doesn’t want to reconnect?  What if she’s just looking for money?”

 

He knew that that wasn’t really what he was worried about, but that was all he could force out.  A dragonfly darted past Viktor, and his hand tightened on the phone.

 

“Chris…”

 

“Do it.”

 

There was a moment where Viktor wondered if he’d heard right.  “Pardon?”

 

“Do it.  Go see her.  You wouldn’t have gone all the way to her house last time you were in Russia if you didn’t want to reconnect with her, at least a little bit.  Either you guys have a nice time and are happy that you did it, or she ruins it and you can finally tell her off for all the shit she put you through.”

 

There were a few moments when Viktor closed his eyes and could see his mother, the graceful ballerina on the stage, twisting and bending in almost impossible ways.  He remembered sitting on his father’s lap as he watched her transform before their very eyes. Then, he remembered looking at her and reaching out, and realizing that she was too far away,  

 

It felt like that, now.  That he was reaching out but she was still too far away and he felt helpless.

 

“What if she hurts me again, Chris?” his words sounded more broken than he intended them to be, and he heard Chris try to soothe him over the phone.

 

“You’re stronger, now.  If she does, you can take it,” there was a moment when Chris thought about what he said, and continued, “I’ve seen you become so much healthier, and you’re so in love right now.  No matter what she says or does, she can’t take that away from you. Hold onto that.”

 

Tears welled up in his eyes at that moment.  “Chris, I don’t know if I tell you enough how much I love you.”

 

Chris chuckled, responding fondly, “You don’t say it enough, but for the record neither do I.  I love you, too. Now go book that ticket.”

 

The call ended, and Viktor knew what he had to do.  He wandered back into the family room, pulled up his laptop, and pressed “Confirm Reservation”.

 

This time he didn’t hesitate.  This time he was sure. 

 

He felt Yuuri come up behind him, read the webpage, and then press a soft kiss to the top of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I love you" is too often only spoken with regards to significant others. Having the comfort to express that with your friends who you care for can be difficult, but I felt Viktor and Chris were at that point in their friendship where there were no more illusions. 
> 
> Soon: Yuuri continues to work on his theme speech, and Viktor prepares to see his mother
> 
> If you like this, check out my other fics! I've got some YOI and I've started dabbling in some Voltron. If you like what you see, leave me a kudos/comment/share.
> 
> Until next time<3


	5. Hair of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri prepare for Viktor to depart to Russia. Later, Viktor leaves and an unpleasant surprise is discovered by Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, friends.
> 
> It's been a while, huh? Happy one year anniversary of "Silver Devils Play"! In honor of the anniversary and the fact that I've been cranking out new YOI content I will begin posting semi-regularly again. I already have a few chapters ready to go and can't wait to share with all of you the work I've put in these last few months.
> 
> You can skip this part if you're just here for the new chapter, but I wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for your unwavering support and kindness through this whole process. I don't want to dig too deep into my personal issues, but I can say without hesitation that Yuri on Ice, as a show, saved my life. I would be dead without it, and writing this fic has been so instrumental in helping me find peace and work through my abuse history and... for everyone who has been so wonderful through this whole process, I'm forever grateful to you. I can't wait to get back to it with you all<3
> 
> WARNING: this fic contains content that might not be suitable for every reader, including explicit sexual content, homophobia, family dysfunction, and characters who deal with the effects of anxiety and depression. If this fic makes you feel some type of way, take a moment and center yourself. Turn on the song that makes your soul dance and let it carry you away for a little bit. Reach out to a loved one, and a professional, and find somewhere beautiful to watch the sunset. It won't fix anything, but it can't hurt, right?
> 
> As usual, I do not own Yuri! on Ice

Yuuri was looking extremely worn down.  They had been practicing for ten hours straight trying to get his one step sequence up to tempo with a more difficult jump. Viktor was watching him stumble and skated up to him, brushing his fingers over his arm.

 

“Yuuri, let’s call it a night.”

 

Shaking his head, Yuuri said “Just another half hour.  I can get this, Viktor, I know it.”

 

Viktor knew that with Yuuri, he had to pick his battles.  He stepped back, settling into the bleachers. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, but Viktor had vowed never to leave Yuuri at Ice Castle without company.  Not after he relapsed here, and definitely not while he was feeling insecure.

 

He read over the note that he’d written out, the one that he planned to read to his mother.  He switched between calling her mother, and Ana, and Reyna, as she prefers to be called now. Yakov had given him a short blurb of information about her in preparation for him going to see her in the next two days.

 

Yuuri took a deep breath on the ice, and waved to Viktor to start the music.  He did, and Yuuri began the section, keeping up with tempo until the very end, where he lost his balance on a spin and fell to his hands and knees, sliding across the ice.

 

Groaning, Yuuri pressed his forehead against the ice.  “Maybe I should wait until tomorrow.”

 

Shocked, Viktor looked at Yuuri with pride.  He recognized his own limits and accepted them, which is something he’d been working on in therapy.

 

This was a huge step for him.

 

“Come on, let’s get home.”

 

They changed into street clothes and Yuuri and Viktor walked quietly back to the Inn, yawning and muttering, “Viktor?”

 

“Yes, love?”

 

Crickets chirped in the distance as Yuuri whispered, “Are you scared?”

 

There was a moment of silence before Viktor said softly, “Yes.”

 

Yuuri pressed Viktor’s hand into his own and squeezed briefly before letting him go.  They both made it back to the Inn, and fell dead asleep in the covers, tangled up together.

  


***

  


The next morning when Viktor woke up, Hiroko was busy making fluffy pancakes in the kitchen.  

 

“Vicchan, shoo!  You aren’t supposed to see these!” she chirped, and Yuuri came grumbling behind the retreating Viktor.  Hiroko yelled at Yuuri for a few moments as Viktor rushed to the dining room, feeling an odd sort of softness envelop him.

 

“I forgot that I was supposed to keep you out of the kitchen,” Yuuri muttered bitterly, plopping down next to Viktor in the dining room.  

 

“Are they ‘going away’ pancakes?”

 

Yuuri nodded.  “She figured since you were going to be at the rink with me all day and then Mari is going to drive you from there that she wouldn’t have time to make you a good-bye lunch or a good-bye dinner.”

 

It was extremely sweet, enough that Viktor already felt better about the day in front of him.

 

Soon there was a towering stack of pancakes in front of him, and Viktor’s mouth watered with excitement.  There was a raspberry glaze dribbled over top, and when Viktor took a bite he swore that he had being directly admitted into heaven.

 

“Hiroko, these are delicious!  Vkusno!” Viktor smiled happily, and Hiroko blushed and nodded her head in satisfaction.

 

They went to the rink after that, and the sleep that Yuuri got helped him immensely.  He was able to get the step sequence to speed within the first hour, and was grinning at Viktor for a few moments before gleefully launching back into the full program.  At some point Viktor skated along with him, mirroring his moves, and soon they were both dancing to Yuri on Ice, and Viktor found himself falling into the music, of his and Yuuri’s creation bleeding together into something that wholly embodied the struggle that Yuuri had been through for the last few years.

 

When the two of them finished, Yuuri skated up to Viktor and hugged him tightly, almost losing their balance on the ice.

 

“I knew you could do it,” Viktor whispered softly, holding Yuuri as he squeezed Viktor with gusto.

  
  


***

  


Yuuri watched Viktor drive off with Mari towards the airport after practice and slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to walk home by himself.

 

It was a beautiful day, truthfully.  He flipped through some apps on his phone, trying to keep himself occupied so that he wasn’t worried about Viktor.

 

Then…

 

He was tagged in something on twitter.  Confused, he clicked over to his page. It was his official twitter for his skating, the one that was run by some teenage intern that Yuuri liked to check from time to time.

 

Tweet:   _When @yuriskates gets a little too friendly with the coach >; D _

 

It was a picture.  In any other context, the picture would be an adorable if not magical candid of Viktor and him laughing and kissing at the same time under the trees on the way out of competition.

 

They joked about it being too public, and now…

 

Now he has been outed to the entire skating community at large, and to literally anyone else with a working twitter.

 

Not only that, but everyone saw him kissing his _coach._

 

He dropped his phone onto the ground.  His phone case protected it as it clattered on the pavement, but he was frozen in place, unable to think, or breathe, or… Yuuri quickly scrambled to pick his phone back up and call one of his contacts in the JSF.

 

“Yuuri!  It’s good to hear from you!”  


“Check my JSF twitter and please tell me you know how to take it down.”

 

His voice was dark and serious, completely at a loss for what to do.  The internet was forever, and even if he managed to get the post down, who knows how many retweets or favorites it got in the time between when it was posted and when…

 

There was some clicking and quiet talking on the other end, and his contact, Jin, said softly, “Yuuri, we need to know if this is photoshopped or real.”

 

Biting his lip, he stuttered out, “Real.  Please just get it down.”

 

“We can try to take it down, but we can’t completely erase it or report it if it isn’t fake.”

 

Yuuri was furious.  “That’s my face, though!  Other people can’t just take pictures of me whenever they feel like it!”

 

After a moment of silence, the official said, “Would you like to issue a public statement with regards to the photograph?”

 

His hands were shaking.  Everything was going to pieces, and he wondered briefly if the person who posted this was happy.  He imagined that they probably weren’t, and that it probably wasn’t their intention to hurt Yuuri at all.

 

...they still did, though.

 

“Yuuri?  What about the statement?”

 

His breathing was getting heavier.  “I’m not sure. I… don’t know the best course of action.”

 

“Let us take care of it from your account, then.  Do you give us permission to take care of this, regardless of the possible consequences?”

 

What if they messed it up?  Yuuri didn’t have any digital media experience, though, so how was he supposed to know what to do?  Could he really do better? They’re probably the best bet but it takes the control completely out of his hands…

 

“Do what you think is best,” Yuuri said softly, hanging up the phone and sitting down on a nearby bench, eyes unfocused.

 

It was going to be a long few days.

  


***

  


Russia was starting to descend into fall a lot sooner than Japan.  The refreshing, crisp chill that rushed over Viktor when he stepped out of the airport made his body relax automatically.  The familiar feeling was just like coming home.

 

He clutched a note in his fist as Georgi pulled up and peered at Viktor from behind enormous insect eye sunglasses.  “Yakov said that I should drop you off at his place.”

 

Viktor climbed into the car, patting Georgi’s shoulder.  “It’s nice to see you! How is your program coming?”

 

The other skater smiled victoriously, his tiny silver sedan pulling back out onto the street towards Yakov’s home.  “I think I’m going to be pretty difficult to keep up with, Vitya. I put my heart and soul into my programs.”

 

Viktor thought momentarily of Yuuri, who bared his soul with each performance of _Yuri on Ice_ .  The same Yuuri who had been laid bare before Viktor, afraid but determined, so that Viktor could guide him through his _Eros._  “We’ll see about that.”

 

The drive was quiet after that, an emotional heartbreak ballad crying out from the speakers as Viktor unfolded his note and read through it one more time.

 

_Mama,_

 

_Yakov told me that you go by Reyna with your new family.  I wonder why you wanted to change that about yourself, and I wonder if it’s my fault._

 

_My therapist told me that I should write out all of the things I should say to you, so that I can completely unload my emotions in case we never see each other again.  So here it goes:_

 

_You’re the reason that I don’t trust other people.  I remember how quickly you flipped from doting and reassuring to a husk of a woman with dad’s death.  Seeing the person who loved me most in the world lose sight of me completely has showed me that no matter what you think you have, it can be taken from you in seconds._

 

_I created a program about you and father.  Stay Close to Me was originally about our pain after father left, about the way that we searched for each other but no matter how hard we tried we couldn’t reach each other.  It morphed into something else, but at its core the program was still me trying to reach you, after all these years. I think I’m still waiting for you to hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay, which is ridiculous.  My therapist says that it’s natural._

 

_Oh I should probably explain about that: I have a therapist.  Looking back at my childhood I can see the seeds of mental illness growing within father and you, and you’ve passed this illness on to me.  Even when I’m on top of the world, I feel like I’m simultaneously being crushed beneath the weight of it. I blame you for that._

 

_You never visited me.  You never bothered to even call to see if I was alright.  You just… left me and found a new family. Yakov says that it was because I got famous, and that that is why you changed your name.  I liked Ana better, but I think I’m biased._

 

Viktor scratched out that last sentence in pen, the crumpled paper ripping a little underneath the pen, ink bleeding onto his jeans.

 

“What’s that?” Georgi turned from the road and swerved a little bit, making Viktor roll his eyes.

 

“It’s personal,” he responded, stuffing the unfinished note into his pocket and opening the passenger side window, letting the air ruffle his silver hair and overwhelm him with something akin to peace.

 

Living with Yuuri was somewhere that he finally felt like he belonged, but… the smell and feel of Russia still permeated even his youngest memories, whisking him back to before his mental illness became a problem, even earlier to when both his parents were still alive.  It still felt like coming home.

 

They reached Viktor’s apartment and Georgi pulled over, putting his car into park.

 

“I know that something is going on,” Georgi was staring straight ahead, avoiding Viktor’s eyes even though his voice pleaded to be heard.  “Take care of yourself, alright Vitya?”

 

Blinking in shock, Viktor nodded and got out of the car, lifting his bag from the back seat and standing in the entryway to his building, trying to conjure up how he was feeling but just being overwhelmed instead.

 

His echoing steps were hollow as he marched to his place of living, too loud in such a quiet place.  Viktor always loved the feeling of autumn hanging heavy in the air. It was so much of the world letting themselves be taken by the chill and the earth and death became something that wasn’t scary, but natural.  It was a deep-seated mourning that always reminded Viktor of those moments that he was standing on the theoretical (and sometimes literal) edge. That belly-deep recognition that you were just one tiny life on one tiny planet and you watched your self worth disappear and disintegrate beneath your feet.

 

It was sad, but it was also beautiful and absolute.  Death was like that, he supposed.

 

As he opened his door, his apartment’s dusty appearance just furthered Viktor’s feeling like he’d stepped into a nation that was more like a funeral than a living, breathing entity.

 

The pale yellow light that drifted in past the curtains was casting the dusty and unused furniture in a white-washed glow, and he dropped his bags, taking the note out of his pocket.  He went over to the window and ripped it up, scattering it to the wind.

 

Most of it fell with the air currents, but a few got back into the apartment and landed on the floor around Viktor, the only proof in months that anyone was home.

 

He stood at the window, sucking in the decaying air and wondering when the beauty of the fall had transformed into something akin to dying.

  


***

  


Viktor’s phone rang suddenly, and he saw that is was Yurio.  Frowning, Viktor answered it. He was still sitting in his living room, his bags gathered at his feet.  He wasn’t going to be there long, and there was something unsettling about the place altogether.

 

“Moshi moshi!” his tone was bright despite the fact that he was currently being sucked into a black hole of despair.

 

“You’re in Russia, right?  I’m outside your apartment.”

 

Standing up quickly, Viktor asked, “What do you mean?  Is something wrong?”

 

A knock sounded on his door and he rushed to it to see Yurio outside, hands shoved into a tiger sweatshirt and bright hair hiding most of his face from view.

 

“What a pleasure, Yurio!  I didn’t think Yakov was going to tell you that I was here, as I’m only here for…”

 

“Go home,” Yurio snapped then, brushing his hair back so that his angry green eyes could stare daggers at the older skater.

 

The words hurt Viktor, who was already feeling shaky as it was.  “I am home, Yurio.”

 

The boy shook his head, yelling out in frustration and pushing past Viktor into the house, slamming the front door on his way.  He stopped in the living room, scrolling through his phone and muttering angrily for a few moments. Viktor came up behind him carefully, unsure what to expect.

 

That was until Yurio thrust his phone at Viktor and pointed at a screenshot of twitter.

 

It was Viktor and Yuuri after the last competition, kissing where they thought was safe and hidden, so wrapped up in their love that they missed the camera that must have gone off nearby.

 

“Who posted this?” Viktor felt the world start to rush around him.  He was out, but he wasn’t _out_.  This was so public, so unmistakable… then his stomach dropped through the floor.

 

_Yuuri._

 

“The original post has been taken down, and Yuuri’s twitter has posted that it was a mistake and not meant to be made public.  It doesn’t even sound like him, though,” Yurio took his phone back and was scrolling with wide eyes.

 

“Yuuri doesn’t use his twitter much,” Viktor whispered, hoping above all that Yuuri hadn’t even looked at twitter today, and that the JSF had been taking care of this without his knowledge.  “He might not…”

 

That was until Viktor opened his twitter and saw that he was tagged in hundreds of posts.

 

“I… I don’t…” Viktor’s body was getting hot, his mind racing.  His whole life had shifted slightly to the left as he read through the posts in complete and paralyzing shock.

 

_I think that it’s amazing that Viktor and Yuuri are in love.  The haters can fuck off #victuuri #victuuripride @yuriskates @victor_n_official_

 

_Being out is one thing, but being so publicly gay is just shoving it in our faces.  Thanks for ruining my morning, twitter #victuuri @victor_n_official_

 

_The skating community has praised Viktor for being so comfortable in his own skin.  His pride helped me to come out to my family. I support #victuuri and am happy for them! @victor_n_official @yuriskates_

 

_People need to mind their own business because #victuuri can do whatever they want #victuuripride @victor_n_official @yuriskates_

 

The rest of the tweets were following quickly and pouring in too fast to read.  Viktor immediately called Yuuri, every ring of the phone like a hammer against his fast-beating heart.

 

“Viktor,” the name was a whispered plea and Viktor felt his chest clench, “How is your mother?”

 

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Viktor quickly responded with, “I know about twitter, Yuuri.  I want to know if you’re okay. I’m worried.”

 

There was silence on the other end for the moment, then Yuuri  muttered, “The JSF is taking care of it.”

 

“I know they’re taking care of the actual picture issue, but what about how you’re feeling right now?”

 

“Unsteady,” Yuuri said honestly, quiet again for a moment.  “I… I didn’t think that my coming out to the public would be like this.  I wanted to do it on my own terms and in my own way. I wanted…” Viktor could hear Yuuri hiccup between tears on the other end, “It’s my sexuality.  I should get to decide how people find out.”

 

“I know it isn’t fair, baby,” Viktor fell onto the couch, rubbing his eyes as they started to burn with unshed tears.  “I’m so sorry that this happened.”

 

“I’m scared, Viktor.  What if this hurts me in the Grand Prix series?  What if it reflects badly on my family? I wasn’t ready, Vitya…” Yuuri's voice dissolved as he spoke, until it was little more than a whisper.

 

“I’m coming home,” Viktor snapped suddenly, and Yurio just looked down at the still packed suitcase with impatience.  It almost like Viktor never intended to stay at all.

 

“No, don’t!  You’ll be home soon.  I can wait, I have Mari and you haven’t seen your mother in years.”

 

The frantic tone gave Viktor pause, but then the older skater grabbed for his suitcase, shuffling around in it for his notebook and sitting on the couch.

 

“I’m booking a flight.  I’ll leave her a note.”

  


***

  


Three hours later Yurio was standing on Yakov’s doorstep, a note written in Viktor’s careful script burning a hole in his sweatshirt pocket.

 

When the door opened, Yurio thrust the letter into Yakov’s hands, who remained impassive.

 

 _“_ He went home,” the teen's voice was scary quiet as he bumped past the older man into the house, grumbling about something under his breath.  Yakov’s watched him walk down the hall, enduring the bite of autumn as he kept the door open with shock.

 

_He went home._

 

That was when Yakov realized that home meant Japan.

 

That was when the door was slammed shut with finality.

  


***

  
  


_Mama,_

 

_How are you?  I hope that things are good.  I know that you’ve found a lot of happiness in these past few years.  I’m incredibly grateful that you were able to find that._

 

_Our little family was broken after papa.  I know how hard his death was on you, and I think I finally understand how you felt that day._

 

_It’s different for me, though.  At first my love and I were like that, codependent and terrified of losing each other.  We’ve been working on it, though. We’ve gotten better, and we’re both stronger for it. Someday maybe I’ll introduce him to you.  I have a feeling that you would get along splendidly._

 

_Maybe someday I’ll sit around the kitchen table with your family and find comfort there, but I’m not there yet.  Be patient for me._

 

_With love,_

_Your Vitya_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys have any interest I put out some content in the last few months including a decent amount of Voltron fics as well as short YOI series. If you like this, maybe check out some of that<3
> 
> Next time: Viktor and Yuuri deal with the fallout of the picture, and try to figure out what "coming out" means to them

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, check out my other YOI fics! I also am working on a few Voltron ones, but my primary focus is usually YOI. I'm planning on getting back to regular updates once April hits. Also, if you like this, share with friends and drop a kudos or a comment! You might make my whole day<3


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